Feb 16 2006

Inspiration is a fickle mistress

I swear I’d love to get, like, a map of my creative gland or something. It’s getting to the point where it’s impossible to predict when I’m going to get struck with some creative urge and waste two days straight working on something.

I’ve been banging out songs in Sonar 4 like nobody’s business lately. Can’t figure out what’s come over me. I’m unsurprisingly not too impressed with what I’ve got but I leave it up to the rest of my band to put the awesome in.

Sure wish I could direct this energy. But honestly I’m mostly just grateful for not being all dried up and talentless like I usually am.

Oh and this week my band’s name is Tactical Escape Artist. Love to see what we get for T-Shirts.


Feb 6 2006

Yeah, I’m not satisfied.

I mean, how is that different from any other day of the year?

The band meetings have been sparse recently but that’s no one’s fault, just certain key members have had inventory counts and trips to Boston and stuffs to do. We’ve got a name and an account with a certain other horribly overused blog company, and as a result I expect it’s only a matter of time before we’re all smothered by dreadful emo web algae. At least you need permissions of some kind to post there. That should keep the detritus away.

But it’s the dreadfull mass of averages that I’m working through every day. I mean, I’ve got the Superbowl on TV behind my monitor and it’s pretty much dissolved into turnovers every ten seconds and incompletes punctuated by occasional strokes of luck. Pretty dull stuff, as most Superbowl games are, in my opinion.

So what, I can’t even be entertained by the single biggest testosterone celebration of the year? At least I’m honest enough to admit that I’m not so nerdy that I don’t watch football. It’s a start. But that’s not the problem. The problem is that I’m still not enjoying anything. Not even with the aid of pharmaceuticals. Granted I’m still not taking them all too reliably but I’m certain I should’ve noticed a change by now.

At least World of Warcraft’s been going well. I’ve managed to get Brannigan up to level 30 but, even though my brother’s got his internets running again, he can’t join in the fun ’cause Blizzard’s decided to suspend new characters on many servers, including Tichondrius. Well, poop.

Jesus Christ now I’m dissatisfied by the fact that this whole post has been nothing but me whining and bitching about how shitty my life is! Well, my good friend Carl has a good philosophy for times like this:

“I’ve got a roof over my head, a car in my driveway, a steady job, a significant other and food in my fridge. Shit’s allright.”

Too bad I can’t think like that every second of the day. But I’m working on it.